See Where It Leads
by Luv2Game
Summary: Food was food. A friend was a friend. And a dinner with Daniel was a dinner with Daniel. Right? It was just a dinner. In London. A change of venue, nothing more. ... Right? :impliedDanielBetty Post-series finale:


_**A/n:**_ First, just let me say that I'm not comfortable with writing 'real' people. As in, flesh and blood people. Ha! Even though these characters are fictional, the actors that play them are not, and it's way outta my comfort zone. BUT! _Ugly Betty_ is so awesome, and Detty is even awesomer, so. Here I be. Yeah, sure, we all know Daniel loves Betty, but how does Betty feel about him? Going from friend to more-than-friend ain't easy.

First time writing for these guys. And probably the last. Haha! Oh, and **spoilers** for the series finale.

_**Disclaimer**_**: **_Ugly Betty _is not mine in any way, shape, or form.

**Chapter 1: See Where It Leads**

**x x x x **

He was holding her hand. It wasn't unpleasant. His grip was firm, but not in a crushing, over-bearing manner. Sort of protective, a gentleness in the hand intertwined with hers. His fingers were warm, a tingling heat where his digits rested against her own. Not exactly a fire, burning with a passion. Not even a spark, a jolt of anticipation. Just a warmth. It wasn't unpleasant at all.

It was confusing.

They'd had dinner together. How many times had they shared a meal? In a four year time span, you consumed _countless_ dinners. She had spent over half of her dinners with him. How would you multiply that? _Could_ you multiply that? Or would you divide? Regardless, why should this dinner mean anything more than their past suppers? Food was food. A friend was a friend. And a dinner with Daniel was a dinner with Daniel.

Right?

Betty Suarez glanced up at the man guiding her through the crowded streets of London. Her boss. Sort of. Her move across the globe had put an end to that title. Though he still felt like her boss. Sort of. Like he still had that, "I can tell you what to do" thing going on, but she didn't really have to listen to him. Though she probably would. He did that to her. Made her listen. Perhaps it was habit, since she had been his assistant for such a long period of time. Funny how you slipped into routines with people.

Like having dinner with them. Without thinking. Just agreeing, because it had been such a habit at one point, the thought of declining never crossed your mind.

Dinner _had_ been nice. Since moving away from home- from her family, her career at Mode, her friends- Betty had felt a little out of sorts. Running Lindsay's magazine was a dream come true, and being in London, on her own, was like a little mini-adventure everyday the sun came up, but she did miss everyone back in New York. Having Daniel sitting across from her, elbows propped up on the thick white linen tablecloth, had been a little reprieve, like a wind from The Big Apple had swept right across the pond and plopped Daniel Meade directly into her lap.

The food had been good, too. A little pricey, but good. The setting had been amiable, a little table tucked away in the corner of a posh hotel. But the company had been the best part of the evening. By far.

Yet confusing.

She was happy to see Daniel. She was happy to share dinner with him. Happy to talk with him, clear the air. Of all the people she had said good-bye to, he had been the only one to stay mute and say nothing back. It was nice to finally get a farewell out of him. Her departure from home had been painful, and their strange ending had only made it worse. Having dinner with him had given them a chance to talk and smooth the edges of the rocky wedge that had formed. Despite everything, he was still her friend, and it was hard to quell such a bond so swiftly. It was almost like being back home in Queens.

Almost, but not quite. Something was different. Not necessarily in a bad way. Nothing huge and suffocating. Just different. Claire Meade's words kept trying to nibble their way into her thoughts, but Betty refused to allow them to burrow. _That_ was not it. Daniel was in London to reinvent himself. To start over. To gain something on his own. He had told her all about it over their shared meal. Of his stepping down as Editor-in-Chief at _Mode_, handing the reigns to Wilhelmina, forging anew. It was admirable. Charming.

He had come to see her to keep things good between them, to ensure their friendship remained. It was so very Daniel. Waiting until the last minute to get things done, but getting them finished nonetheless. A quality that could be both endearing and extremely frustrating. Tonight, Betty choose to see it as the former, to cut him some slack.

She did that often with Daniel. Without even realizing it. It was part of their routine.

But tonight the routine had changed. Just slightly. Tonight, after walking out of the restaurant, Daniel had tentatively, almost nonchalantly, reached for her hand. Not that strange, since he had held her hand before; refusing him never even crossed Betty's mind. After crossing the lanes of traffic, starting off towards the Underground, she had expected him to drop it. Like he usually did. But this time, Daniel kept his fingers curled around her hand. And Betty allowed it.

Which was the main reason why she was confused.

Despite her desire to pretend that she'd never heard Claire's words, Betty couldn't deny that the older woman had spoken with her. And simply because she no longer worked at _Mode_ did not mean that she no longer read the magazine. Daniel's last letter as editor at the company had been published a couple of weeks back; Betty had read the article. Daniel's dinner story had not been as current as he had assumed. In essence, Betty understood why Daniel sought to hold her hand.

She just didn't know why she let him.

Yes, a friend could hold another friend's hand. Nothing wrong with that. But, hypothetically, if said friend had feelings for other friend, then other friend should probably discourage said friend from touching other friend. Because if said friend touched other friend, and other friend did not return said friend's sentiments, then other friend would be sending said friend mixed messages. If that happened, there was a very good chance that said friend and other friend would no longer be friends. At all.

Betty didn't want that. She wanted to be Daniel's friend. Had been Daniel's friend for a long time. They'd been through so much. Too much. She didn't want to throw it all away. Their friendship meant more than that. It was why she had forgiven him for not telling her good-bye. If they could survive _that_- making a huge move, not coming back for God only knows how long, and not even a quick farewell on a voice mail?- then tripping up over something like _this_- hand-holding?- seemed... ridiculous. She should just slip her hand out of his, keep talking about the horrible flights they had endured on the journey over, and let it be done with. End it before it started.

But his hand was so _warm_. Comfortable. Familiar. Yet new. _Different_. The thought of pulling away from his grasp left her feeling...

Confused.

Suddenly they were stopping, street lamps flooding the stone walkway, people pushing out around them, cars and bikes filtering down the road beside them. Her apartment was still miles away. Betty had no idea why they were standing on the corner of the busy intersection, but she was keenly aware that his fingers were still pressed against hers.

"What do you say to a quick cup of coffee? You know, so we can... keep catching up?"

Staring up into the familiar face, the same face she had watched grow and change and mature over the past four years, the face she had wondered if she would ever really see again, Betty felt herself smile. A slow smile that climbed from her lips and settled into her eyes. Tiny flecks of confusion ebbing away, she gave the hand wrapped around hers a gentle squeeze.

"I think I'd like that."

**x x x x**

_**A/n:**_ And that did _not _turn out how I expected it. Ain't that how it goes? But I'm satisfied, over all. I think. Hah! I _do_ think Betty loves Daniel, I just don't think she realizes it yet. Or even wants to. I didn't want this to be a, "Oh, I now realize that I totally want to have your babies! Give me some sugar!" fic. More like a, "I know I care about the guy- how deep does it go?" type of thing. And I imagine that when confused, Betty mind-rambles. Don't we all?

I totally wanted a Detty kiss in the finale, though! Rushed, pushed- I WANTED A KISS! I see why they didn't, kinda agree with it, but still! My fangirl heart broke a little when I watched the finale and didn't see even a peck...

Thanks for reading. Feedback is love. Because, hey. Detty. It makes the world go 'round.

- _L2G_


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